Proud
by mistycrow
Summary: "During his centuries old existence, Yato hasn't done many things that he was proud of. He has to try and claw his way out of the suffocating mistakes he has made with a ladder of these proud moments and it is still very, very short."


**AN:** Yay for new story, nay for uncreative title. I wanted to write something that is cute because I have a bad feeling about the next chapter. The current chapter was very cute indeed and it showed a great character development in Yukine's case which always makes me happy.

I feel like I am repeating myself in these stories. I like these ideas and while I have other, more complex and longer ideas I don't have time to actually write them down. Maybe one day it will happen.

 **Proud**

During his centuries old existence, Yato hasn't done many things that he was proud of.

The first steps of his wobbling identity as a God of Calamity were firm on the idea of his family. He would do anything for them. He would kill innocent people out of a single wish his father has made. He would slaughter millions and still not feel tired or content if his father wished so. All the blood of this world and the afterlife wouldn't suffice if his father wanted the worlds painted in red. Gods and mortals stood equal in front of his sword and he would cut them all into little pieces because it was his father who wanted it done.

Even today, Yato will admit without hesitation that he was endlessly proud by his decisions. The blood of millions of innocent people still hasn't dried on his hands but he had a reason. He had a cause which surpassed all their lives and every ounce of their worth.

The sadistic, sick, bloody games he played with Hiiro weren't things his father had wanted from him but nonetheless, the little shinki was his family. He would do anything if it put a smile on the beautiful face of the child shinki. He would kill Gods and serve their heads on a platter if Hiiro was going to laugh with that hearty laugh of her. Such times when Yato's once white clothes were drained with blood and Hiiro had had her fun were the very rare occurrences of a sincere emotion dancing on her face. Yato delighted those moments and felt overwhelmingly proud at being able to make the shinki who had become a sister for him happy.

It was a hard lesson to learn when Yato found out that one's happiness might cause another's grief. Sakura made him see it in such a clear and shaking way that Yato was changed to the core. He had to decide between the happiness of two of his shinkis when the time came. None of this was about him, because he was happy when they were happy. None of his decisions were selfish and childish but in the end, they were decisions and it meant one would be less happy. He couldn't merge the two worlds he had into one and have both Sakura and Hiiro.

So he chose the flowers and the laughter and the cherry trees. He chose the happiness of a mortal child over the smile on his own sister's face. He made the choice without sparing a second thought on the outcome. He was proud when Sakura smiled at him with an honest smile.

These memories of the shinki with a kind heart and warm eyes are tainted with the screams of agony and the desperate need to _end it_. When he looks at the cherry trees now, he isn't sure if he still feels proud of making any decision at all on that day. He still feels the taste of the most dreaded name on his lips and every time a pink leaf falls on his way, he tries to ignore the pain at the back of his head.

After that, it had gone downhill and Yato's proud moments had gotten less than frequent until there were none.

He still remembers feeling so proud that his chest swelled and his head was raised to the heavens once after Sakura fell in his arms in a bundle of red and black mist. It is when he allowed Kazuma to walk away without paying what he offered in return for his master's life. He remembers feeling distinctly jealous; he had a shinki who was dirtied with innumerable names and a past devoid of loyal companions. The shinki bowing down in front of him is a blinding light of faithfulness and devotion. Yato remembers wanting it and feels proud after not taking it away from the shinki in a fit of jealous hatred.

These days, he can't recall the other times when he has felt proud. He had thought there were a few more but the list of things he didn't regret doing fell short after the incident with Kazuma and he kept asking himself whether it was too short for a God who has lived for centuries. Sometimes he wants to ask some other God and hear their stories, but their autobiographies don't count. They get to die and live again. They can simply ignore the overwhelmingly long list of things they are not proud of and instead focus on the rest while Yato has to try and claw his way out of the suffocating mistakes he has made with a ladder of these proud moments and it is still very, very short.

It is only after centuries that he realizes it isn't the number of things that you are proud of, but the things themselves that will pull him away from his past.

It begins when Yato decides he will protect Hiyori.

Then he adds another step when he doesn't let go of Yukine.

Another step when Yukine stops hiding things from him.

One more when Hiyori says she wants to keep being his friend.

Another when Yukine becomes his hafuri and another when Hiyori says he is her God of Fortune and another when Yato lets go of Hiiro and one more when Bishamon thanks him in her silent way and one more also when Ebisu thanks him for saving his life and one step more when he finally gets himself a shrine.

Now he sits on the futon with his hand on the wooden roof of his miniature shrine and he gazes up, one step closer to be freed of his past and he realizes that all these steps pile up into one big thing that he is the most proud of.

He gets up, sits next to Yukine and looks at the book his hafuri is reading. Yukine doesn't say anything when Yato scoots over closer and reads over his shoulder. A few minutes later, the child's head rests on his shoulder hesitantly in such a way that screamed _we will not talk about this later_ that Yato just smiles and tries to make sure Yukine is comfortable.

It is the way Yukine relaxes and lets out a smile sigh that Yato knows it. It is the way Yukine has started telling Yato about his nightmares and didn't feel nervous when asking Yato to keep the lights on that Yato feels it deep in his soul. It is how Yukine wakes him up and talks to him when he can't sleep; how Yukine always asked for permission before he went out; how Yukine looked at Yato when he needed to make a decision. It is how Yukine has painted a picture for Hiyori's birthday and included Yato as if he didn't consider it to be otherwise. It is all this that makes Yato realize that feeling he has when the child grows right next to him.

After all, it is how Yukine doesn't flinch when a customer assumes Yato is his father and goes along with it that makes Yato the most proud. The combination of all his proud moments can't be the equivalent of the swelling, blooming, blinding proudness he feels whenever Yukine does something good.

He wonders, as he puts his arm around Yukine's shoulder and drifts off to sleep, if this is how a father is supposed to feel.


End file.
